what will we pass on to tomorrow's children?
by NinthFeather
Summary: Leesa Kujo has some concerns regarding the newest Gundam Meister. [For Gundam 00 Week Day 1: Trap]


_A/N: For Day 1 of Gundam 00 Week 2018, the prompt was "Trap." Set precanon with minor backstory spoilers; warnings are light but can be found in the end note. Title is from the lyrics of "Trap" by The Back Horn._

 **what will we pass on to tomorrow's children?**

"First of all, no, and second, screw you," Leesa snapped. "This is where I draw the line."

"You agreed to be Celestial Being's tactical forecaster, and that means you agreed to work with the Gundam Meisters," said the old guy. She squinted at him for a few seconds, trying to remember his name. It started with an "I," she thought—she'd been pretty drunk when they were introduced, but she did remember that much.

"I didn't agree to give orders to _that_!" Leesa exclaimed, focusing on the matter at hand and gesturing toward the hangar.

It was separated from the conference room they were in by a sheet of mirrored glass paneling, so both of them had a clear view of the skinny Middle Eastern boy who was attempting to run a maintenance check on a mobile suit a few yards away from them. He was hampered in the attempt by a shirt some four sizes too big for him, which kept slipping down to cover his hands and getting caught on the machine's gun turrets when he tried to move to a different part of the robot.

"Look, it's Laundry Day, and the girls got overenthusiastic, so I had to loan him a shirt," the man—Ian, yes, his name was Ian—all but groaned. "He _does_ have clothes that fit."

"Yes, clothing in children's sizes, because _he is a child_ ," Leesa said, gesturing wildly. "I decided by coming here that I was okay with committing acts of terrorism in order to bring peace, but this is a whole different level of war crime."

"Veda wouldn't have selected him unless he was going to at least be of age by the time the plan starts," Ian said calmly.

 _Of age where?_ Leesa wondered.

"We still have to train him first," she said aloud. "Which is still a war crime, and also, _wrong_."

Ian's gruff frown deepened. "All we're teaching him is how to work a mobile suit and enough English to use the OS."

Leesa frowned back, confused. "We aren't even giving him combat training?"

"It's against the rules around here to go prying into people's pasts," Ian said. And then, "But he's cleared for combat training. According to Veda, he doesn't need it."

Leesa looked through the window again. The kid was taking advantage of the low gravity in the hangar to hover near the mobile suit's head, either checking the optical cameras or just staring at its face. The oversized shirt was billowing out around him. It was almost picturesque, if you forgot that you were looking at a child and an instrument of war.

Or if you didn't realize that for a kid that young-looking to get out of combat training, he would almost have to have combat experience.

She cursed softly.

"I got a kid a little younger than him," Ian said. "Doesn't do my heart any good to think about that, though."

"I can't think that it would," Leesa managed.

"I guess some people's reasons for getting involved in Celestial Being are more obvious than others," Ian remarked.

 _Yeah, being a child soldier…that would be a pretty good reason to want to end war_ , Leesa thought. "He may have good reasons, but I still don't like this."

"You don't have to," Ian said. "You have a choice—put up with it or leave. Unless you really think you can make a computer change its mind." He frowned. "Talking the kid out of it is always an option, I guess, but if Veda picked him, there was a reason for it."

"I need a drink," Leesa declared, standing.

"You really should go easier on the alcohol," Ian said, frowning again.

"And you should go easier on the parenting," Leesa replied. "Save it for the kid, okay?"

"Whatever you say, Ms. Sumeragi," Ian said, grinning a bit.

 _Heh, what a codename,_ Leesa thought, heading for the door. _Wonder what they'll stick the kid with?_

 _The kid. Screw me. I am going to need so much more alcohol._

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 _A/N: Warnings for discussion of terrorism, child soldiers, and alcoholism, at relatively canon-typical levels._

 _Thanks for reading!_


End file.
